Impatience is a Virtue
by artemis-nz
Summary: Hiroki has a day off, and Nowaki has a lunch break. Nowaki/Hiroki. Lemon.


_It feels like it's been a while since I've written any fanfiction, and ages since I've written anything for this pairing in particular, so I thought I could use the practice. The theme is no doubt over-used, but it's a favourite of mine anyway, so I hope you all enjoy._

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If someone had told Hiroki even a couple of hours ago that he'd be in this position now, he would have laughed at them. Or rather, he would have yelled and slammed the door on them, but it amounted to the same thing.

Said position involved lying on his back on the bathroom floor, since that was where it was coolest, and shuddering at the beads of sweat forming at the tip of his forehead (among other areas). Most of them were from the heavy clamminess of the day.

Most of them. Hiroki reminded himself of this, still seeking some kind of vindication, grasping desperately on to his sense of dignity. Obviously a man had his needs, there was no doubt about that, and yes, of course he was in lo… in _that_ kind of relationship with Nowaki, another male, but that was no reason to suggest that he himself of all people succumbed so easily to his desires. It was hot, he had been sweating even before he had taken a step out of bed that morning in fact, and everyone knew that too much heat could make people act in stupid ways. And how he chose to spend one of his precious few days off was his own business, dammit, and- _why_ was he getting defensive against his own mind? Hiroki shoved his shirt up a little higher at that, and managed to shove those annoying stray thoughts a little further from him at the same time. His fingers brushed past a nipple, and lower down, something was pushing very insistently against the coarse fabric of his jeans.

Hiroki successfully bit back his groan, even as he reminded himself that he was by himself in the house, the door securely locked. That brat Nowaki was at work, and wouldn't arrive back until the evening – and that was hours and hours away. This time Hiroki couldn't quite be bothered smothering the sound as, entirely of its own accord, the hand that was not preoccupied with his chest inched itself downwards and pressed between his thighs. His pants, unzipped but clinging to his skin with the humidity, were still covering his lower half, and removing them would have meant getting up. Hiroki decided it wasn't yet worth the exertion, and settled for tilting his head back as his hand pressed down harder, circling a little before his legs started to tremor with the effort of keeping still.

And keeping still was definitely becoming more of a struggle, Hiroki had to confess, what with the thoughts of Nowaki now firmly in his head. He didn't know what had brought this on, but it was no doubt Nowaki's fault, however it had happened. Nowaki had probably been wearing that shirt that Hiroki liked, the one that made his eyes look even softer, when he had left that morning. Or maybe he had kissed Hiroki while the brunette had still been half-asleep, exhausted after another all-nighter grading papers for Miyagi, and had caused Hiroki to dream ridiculous things. Whatever the case, Nowaki would just have to take responsibility when he came back home, seeing as he had clearly been the one to mess everything up. But since Nowaki wasn't here, and wouldn't be for hours… and hours… then it fell to Hiroki to take care of things himself. He certainly wouldn't be waiting _that_ long for his freakishly tall boyfriend to come home and… and _fix_ things.

Although admittedly, Nowaki was really good at that- Hiroki's stomach muscles flexed and contracted as that hand decided that outside was not as good as inside. It slipped into the space between zipper and bare skin without waiting for permission, and it didn't touch what it found there so much as stroked – slowly, achingly. Like Nowaki _would_ have done if he had been there, because Nowaki liked to tease sometimes, and Hiroki liked-

_That_. The sound of Hiroki's voice echoed from the ceramic tiles. They were no longer such a pleasantly sharp counterpoint to the heat radiating from his body, but it was still cooler lying here than it would be in the bedroom, and anyway, it somehow felt more private in the bathroom. Hiroki's heartbeat was in his ears as his fingers curled inwards ever so slightly, his motions growing longer and harder, his legs spreading further apart-

"Hiro-san, you weren't answering your phone, did I forget my…"

Hiroki wasn't sure if he swore out loud or not, but there was a definite shriek of alarm and denial coming from his head. How could he have missed the footsteps on the stairs, the keys in the door…? Nowaki wasn't really here, he was at the hospital, the heat had finally gotten to him-

But Nowaki clearly wasn't at the hospital, because that man was standing right at the door, his eyes wider than Hiroki had ever seen them, and he was opening and closing his mouth like a complete moron while Hiroki was…

He quickly whipped his hand out of his waistband, but he knew Nowaki wasn't that much of an idiot that he wouldn't work out what was going on. Hiroki glared upwards as fiercely as his position would allow him, wondering how much blood had already seeped back into his face.

"_What?_" he snapped, when the silence had finally dragged out for too long.

"Hiro-san, you… I had no idea that you…"

"That I _what_? I'm a human being too, just in case you forgot, of course I bloody well-"

"That's not what I meant! I mean, I know that you probably… but I just never imagined that you…" Nowaki swallowed, and with a perverse gratification, Hiroki noted the perspiration glinting beneath the other man's own fringe.

Not that that changed matters much. Nowaki's eyes were roving, taking in the shirt now hiked up past Hiroki's ribs, the unfastened pants, the still-rapid rise and fall of his chest. He looked back up Hiroki, his eyes dark.

"I'm taking my lunch break", he said, dead-pan.

Hiroki didn't know whether to laugh hysterically at the double insinuation – intentional or not – or just yell some more.

His lover lost no time in making neither possibility an option – just like Nowaki, he lost no time in doing anything at all.

"Did you miss me that much?" Nowaki asked when he broke away for oxygen.

"Shut up", Hiroki growled. And then he was too busy squirming to growl much else, and he could never stay mad for too long at Nowaki when the younger man was putting certain talents to use. His jeans were tugged firmly down in one, swift movement. Hiroki's thighs were slick and moist, and he could have sworn Nowaki swallowed convulsively again at the sight. He gasped and shook some more at the sensation of a larger hand now taking over from his own, warm and tingling and all too coercive. Somewhere in the fevered chaos of teeth and tongue and stickiness, Nowaki's clothing was tossed and abandoned, as was the rest of Hiroki's. Atop him, Nowaki was doing something with his fingers that made Hiroki want to scream his impatience.

"Hiro-san. Roll over", Nowaki demanded.

_Brat. Don't order me around._ That was what Hiroki _would_ have said, but given the circumstances he found he rather liked Nowaki's more assertive side – not that he would ever say so – and besides, he would have scarcely had time to say even half of that sentence with Nowaki practically claiming ownership over Hiroki's mouth. Hiroki was only too eager to comply.

Nowaki had always been gentle, but he also knew Hiroki like he knew himself. Better, even. So Hiroki did not need to say a word for Nowaki to understand exactly what it was that he wanted. All thought of attempting to clutch on to the tattered pieces of his pride were thrown to the winds. On his hands and knees, his body weight causing the lines between the floor tiles to be temporarily imprinted on his skin, Hiroki found himself swept away by the force of it – _hothardfastnow_ – until he couldn't have answered which way was up and which down had someone asked him, let alone where he ended and Nowaki began. With a resounding shudder, he came.

The floor was damp with their release and their sweat when Nowaki eventually let go of Hiroki. The older man could not summon the energy to feel any real sense of mortification at this – after all, he was doubly sure now that everything was Nowaki's fault, even if that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"I love you so much, Hiro-san."

"Idiot. I love you too." He couldn't quite keep the fondness from his voice.

"Does this mean that you wouldn't mind doing this again sometime?"

Nowaki's tone was too earnestly hopeful for Hiroki to say anything too harsh. "What are you, some kind of nymphomaniac? At least let me get my breath back before asking a question like that." In truth, he wasn't sure he could even stand up right now, but Nowaki didn't need to know that. Suffice to say his reply hadn't been a negative.

"Hiro-san!" Nowaki pulled him backwards again, this time into his arms. Just like that, the blood rushed back into Hiroki's cheeks.

"Ouch! Nowaki, my back!"

"Oops. Sorry, Hiro-san."

Hiroki didn't really mind being held. "… Whatever. It's fine." And he didn't really want Nowaki to let go.

Somewhere, a phone was ringing. Hiroki felt Nowaki sigh against his neck. "Lunch breaks are too short", he said mournfully.

"Mm."

"Hiro-san… will you wait up for me tonight?"

_Of course I will, you dolt._ "Maybe."

"I promise I'll leave as soon as I can. Right now I just want to be with you, Hiro-san."

How could one single human being say so many embarrassing things in a lifetime with such a straight face? "You should go back to work before people start worrying", was all Hiroki said. But judging by the way Nowaki squeezed him in return, Hiroki knew he had been understood.

"All right. Uh… guess I should clean myself up first."

Hiroki watched, keeping his face as passive as was humanely possible, as Nowaki briefly sluiced himself down with water before briskly towel-drying himself off. All too quickly, his naked skin was covered again by business clothes, dark and formal. They suited him, and Nowaki really _was_ wearing that shirt, but…

Nowaki turned around at Hiroki's stare, and Hiroki did not avert his gaze in time. Nowaki's wink was anything but formal.

"Hiro-san! I'll understand if you can't wait for that long, but I truly don't mind as long as you still save some for me-"

"Idiot! Hurry up and go!" He had just enough energy left to throw the nearest item – a bottle of shampoo – at Nowaki's retreating back.

And despite himself, he wondered how many hours were left until Nowaki would return home.


End file.
